Killian Jones or Captain Hook?
by Kalawyn Tawariell
Summary: Emma and Hook have a short discussion on a side street of Storybrooke. What part of the devilish rogue can the savior trust? Who does she need? Rated T for language. Romance, kinda. More like the potential for more.


**A/N: Captain Swan – because their characters are amazing in their brokenness. Also, because I can. Ha. Don't worry TPI readers, I'm almost finished with my next chapter; I swear the story is still alive in my head. I'm so sorry. Senior Year has been crazy insane. On a side note, I am a quiet CS shipper… don't hate me. I'll just leave this little piece of dialogue here and go hide, and I feel like I usually write better than this, but that might just be because my brain is fried from finals. (Sorry it's so short.) Enjoy, maybe?**

**Disclaimed.**

"Damn it, Swan! I am trying to help you." Captain Hook half shouted at the retreating form of the blonde woman as she walked away, down one of the side streets of Storybrooke. The woman was a challenge, and at the moment, it was beginning to grind on his nerves.

"I don't need your help, Hook." She replied adamantly as she continued her march down to the Sheriff Station; face set and eyes grim. Emma did not turn, nor did she make any other indication that acknowledged the fact the pirate captain was following her. He had earned more than enough of her wrath for one day, and she really rather not have him in her presence at the moment. "You keep messing up my plans."

"I mess up _your _plans?" He scoffed, doggedly chasing after her, "No, lass. You mess up _mine._ Either way, you might not _want_ my help, but you do_ need_ it. I've told you before we make a good team, Emma, and right now, you need my help."

Emma Swan halted for a moment, paused, and turned on her heel, surprising the black leather clothed man when he almost collided with her. The Sheriff of Storybrooke-slash-savior set her feet shoulder width apart and crossed her blue leather jacket encased arms across her chest. The pirate captain resisted the urge to crowd her personal space and offer an innuendo as the fire in her hazel eyes burned him with their stare. Her jaw tensed, and she asked, "Which 'we,' Hook? You as Captain Hook, revenge filled villain, or you as Captain Killian Jones, the greedy rogue pirate with his own code of honor?"

He hesitated for a second, his dark eyebrows knitting together over sea blue eyes in confusion and momentary fascination at the sound of his old name falling from her lips. "What?"

Emma heaved a sigh and gave him one of her signature cut-the-crap looks, "Ha, right. Because you are so eaten up with revenge over Milah and Gold that you don't even realize when the _real_ you comes through. I don't even think you remember who the real you is anymore. The point is, I don't want _or need_ Captain Hook, and you better understand that right now, buddy. He messes with my plans, tries to murder people I am protecting, and causes himself pain even when I try to stop it. If you're going to keep fighting against my efforts to keep this town safe, which includes yourself, then I'm going to stop trying to care about you. I'll stop trying because clearly, you don't want my help either.

"You're right that Killian Jones and I make a good team. He's the man that sacrificed his own safety to help me get back to my son. Killian Jones is the man that bandaged my hand and saw through my walls on the beanstalk. He is the man I should have trusted on top of that beanstalk. I know I made a mistake back there, and I have been trying my damnedest to fix it since you got hit by that car. He is the man that allowed me to best him at Lake Nostos because pirates always have a plan B, don't they? Don't deny it, Hook. Besides, I may be the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White, but you are a pirate captain, and I am _not_ that good with a sword. You had too many openings to 'jab me with your sword' as you called it, and I honestly think some small part of you wanted to help me get back to my son, and that's why you did it. Killian Jones is the man that one that I saw when you first woke up in that hospital bed, the man whose smile reached his eyes. Captain Hook, on the other hand, has no part in my life, my son's, or anyone else's in this town. He is the one that shot Belle, kept Archie prisoner, and travelled to Manhattan to murder Gold.

"You have to choose before you decide to help me, and from where I'm standing, you still haven't figured it out. And the next time you say you'll help me, you better make sure I believe it. I should have trusted you before, but right now, you aren't doing anything to add to your cause. I was trying to keep your ass safe, and you won't let yourself think that someone else could care for you, even a little bit, in order to protect you. The question is, are you living in the past or are you going to help me and let me help you in the future?"

"You've been thinking about me a lot I see." He responded with his signature quirk of a dark eyebrow and a half smirk, fighting the urge to shift his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

Emma rolled her eyes and inhaled a deep breath to calm her nerves. She pegged him with another serious look, showing the conviction she held and the desire to truly see him as he was supposed to be deep within her hazel eyes, "I mean it."

"Oh, I can see that." He drawled and then added, "You're a tough lass, after all."

Emma sighed heavily, but the corner of her mouth tweaked upward as she pulled out the memory, "So you've said." After a short but heavy pause, she continued simply, "I cannot sacrifice my family's happiness for your vengeance, Hook."

"Emma –" He began, but the frustrating woman cut him off.

"Decide the _man_ you need to be, not the _name_ you want to be. I know who I need, and presently, I'm not looking at him." Emma stated as she gave him a meaningful glare and turned on her heel and back on her course for the station, leaving Captain Hook/Killian Jones with a very conflicted emotion splaying across his ruggedly handsome features and stormy blue eyes. Unfortunately, the bewitching hazel eyed blonde was far too wrapped up in her own world to glance back at him. If she had, Emma Swan might have seen the same look in his eyes that he had seen in hers: abandonment.


End file.
